


Bottom of the Sea

by stellarmeadow



Series: Bottom of the Sea [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Related, Episode Tag, First Time, M/M, episode 2.03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-05
Updated: 2011-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 08:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Danny talk after watching Operation Payback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottom of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you see an episode that demands lots of fic be written and then spend 12 hours on planes headed to Hawaii. HUGE thanks to imaginarycircus for making this make sense--I think she understands what I'm trying to say better than I do sometimes! :)
> 
> Also, the title is from Matt Nathanson's song Bottom of the Sea, which has been a Steve/Danny song from Steve's POV for me since the first time I heard it.

Steve eyes Danny carefully out of his peripheral, trying to gauge his mood while looking like he's doing nothing more than driving his truck. Danny has been uncharacteristically silent and still since they'd left Pearl, and while these days that could easily be down to another round of contemplation of his second failed relationship with Rachel that will eventually end in an explosion, the fact that the silence comes just after watching a full SEAL assault happen in real time leaves room for doubt.

Because it's one thing to know, intellectually, what Steve's job was like. He's sure Danny's seen carefully scrubbed footage on the news, and despite his affinity for antiques like Ms. Pac Man, he knows Danny can't have missed seeing video games that provide what people think is a real taste of what it's like to participate in an Op.

As if anything could actually simulate that.

It's another thing altogether to see it in action, real people in real danger, putting themselves at risk to take lives, a necessary form of justice that few people outside the military understand. Danny is big on due process and procedure--to him this probably looked like neither.

He wonders if the silence means this glimpse of his past has irrevocably altered Danny's impression of him now.

Only when they're approaching HQ and Danny's car does Steve break the silence. "Longboards at my place?" he asks. When Danny doesn't answer right away, despite the fact that Steve can feel Danny's gaze on him, Steve says, "Hey, _partner_ ,"  and repeats the question.

"Sorry," Danny says, shaking his head a little. "Yeah," he answers slowly, "okay."

He gives no clue  what he's so focused on as Steve pulls up next to the Camaro, the sunset glinting off the silver, making the car look almost orange. "See you in a few," Steve says, only just managing to not make it a question, as if Danny might change his mind. Danny nods and waves a hand as he closes the truck door.

Once he hears the Camaro's engine roar to life, Steve backs out and turns the truck toward home. He arrives well before Danny--predictably, given his lead foot--but he's out behind the house with a pail of beers, neck deep into his first one, before he hears the Camaro pull up, and that does nothing to ease his concern.

The amount of time it takes Danny to get through the front door doesn't help either; Steve's halfway through his beer before he hears Danny's footsteps on the lanai. _At least he didn't knock_ , Steve thinks--that would have definitely tipped the scales in favor of Danny's latest problem being Steve and not Rachel.

That it's usually one or the other is something Steve tries never to think too hard about.

Danny drops into his chair heavily, as if the weight of everything that's ever happened sits down with him. The sun is mostly gone now, and Danny's face is shrouded in shadows as he takes the beer Steve holds out without looking, eyes on the ocean.

So Steve goes back to looking at the ocean, too, lets his body fall into sync with the roll of the waves onto the beach. He feels, more than actually sees, Danny turn after a few minutes, feels Danny studying him, and self-consciously takes a long drink, swallowing the last of the beer to give himself a reason to turn and face Danny.

Turning to put his beer on the sand next to the pail and pull another out, Steve pretends like he's just noticed Danny is staring. _The hell with it--time to find out._ "What's with you?"

"What?" Danny says, and his tone would be enough for Steve to know Danny knows exactly what Steve is talking about, but Danny shifts his gaze to the beers on the  ground, too, confirming it.

"I may not be a cop," Steve says, "but I don't really need to be one to know you don't need an answer to that."

Danny lifts his eyes without moving his head, looking at Steve through his lashes. "No," Danny says slowly, "you're not a cop, are you?"

 _Not Rachel, then._ Steve feels his chest tighten a little. "No," he says quietly, not sure what else to add until he can figure out exactly what Danny's thinking, so he keeps his mouth shut.

"How many times was that you?" Danny asks suddenly.

"What?"

Danny waves a hand in the general direction of Pearl. "How many times were you out on missions like that while people sat around calmly and watched from thousands of miles away?" 

"Danny, it's clas--"

"Don't give me ' _classified_ '," Danny growls, low and intense, which is somehow worse than his normal angry yelling. "I'm not asking for details, Steven. How many times? Hell, make a number up. It's not like I'll ever know if you lie."

What the hell...he's pretty sure there's nothing in the military code preventing him from giving a number. And even if there is.... "Four," he says, truthfully, before reaching for another beer and popping off the top, trying to make out which Hawaiian word was translated under the cap just to give his eyes somewhere else to look.

"Four times," Danny says slowly, and Steve can't tell what that voice means without looking at Danny, and he's not ready to do that without some hint of what he'll see.  "How bad were the guys you took out?"

He thinks about the code again, and about the carnage he'd seen some of his targets perpetrate before the government sent them in, about the bodies of children who couldn't even be identified in one case. "Worse than the ones today."

"How did you know?"

 _Because the government said so, and you don't question orders._   He knows that answer won't satisfy Danny, though. "Because I saw things," he says, carefully choosing his words. "Pictures, sometimes, but sometimes with my own eyes before we were ordered to go in."

He can hear the hollowness in his own voice and hopes it's enough, because even if he could go into detail, he doesn't want to. Some things are better locked away in your head once they're over.

"So," Danny says, his tone less intense, more contemplative now, "safe to say there's a few people who would want you dead, too, if they knew who you were, right?" .

Steve nods. When Danny had uttered the words  'Operation Strawberry Fields,' Steve's shock had quickly turned into a cold grip around his heart when he saw the file in Danny’s hands. He'd felt like he was in the middle of an open field in enemy territory with no weapons and no protection, before Joe had come in with news.

Since that moment he's tried not to think about how his name is out there, attached to actual operations, probably up for sale to the highest bidder. A SEAL can’t do his job without accepting the possible consequences before he ever set foot out of BUD/s. And becoming a high value target for really bad people is part of the package.

He doesn't think Danny would find that particularly comforting, though, so he keeps the whole thought to himself. Not that he can tell what Danny wants to hear right now, which is unnerving. He prides himself on being able to read Danny within thirty seconds of the start of any conversation, and they are well past that.

"I read some of the file," Danny says slowly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to--I couldn't even process what it was at first and I just kept reading. But it didn't seem real until today."

"Then why were you asking me about it earlier?"

"We were on a base full of military people," he says, a hint of his normal, 'you idiot,' tone creeping into his voice. "Who's gonna think I read it if I'm bugging you to tell me about it? If they don't think I read it, you don't have to kill me, right?"

Steve lifts his eyes to meet Danny's. "I don't actually have to kill you, you know."

He feels his chest loosen a little at the faint ghost of a smile that crosses Danny's lips. "No, but you'd be in trouble, right?"

"If I actually told you anything, yeah."

"And now they think I know nothing."

Steve frowns, _were you protecting me?_ on the tip of his tongue, but he's not sure he wants to know the answer, no matter what it is. "Just let them keep thinking that, then," he says.

He can't quite understand the rapid change in expressions on Danny's face, but they leave him a little worried about what might be coming next, something about them unsettling. Even so, his next question leaves Steve a little baffled, as Danny asks,  "How old was I when I learned how to ride a bike?"

"Five?" Steve lets it sound like a question, but it's not, because he knows.

Danny nods. "Where'd I get this scar?" he asks, pointing at an almost invisible scar on his cheek.

"Wrecking your bike one week after you learned how to ride it," Steve answers.

"And this one?" Danny asks, pulling his pants leg up to the knee and pointing at an ugly scar.

"Drug bust in '07," Steve says, his eyes starting to hurt from how tightly his forehead is drawing together.

With another nod, Danny shoves his pants leg back down. "Who was my first crush?"

"Penelope Dawson."

"First kiss?"

 "Kate Carson."

And whatever Steve is expecting next, it's not for Danny to sit back, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. "Is there anything you don't know about me?"

He thinks back over the stories Danny's constantly spouting, when he lost his first tooth, his first fight, his virginity, along with every war story he had from his days in New Jersey..."Not really," he says, still not sure what Danny's getting at.

"So my entire life is basically an open book to you."

Steve's getting a headache from frowning now as he studies Danny, wondering what he's supposed to say. His life can't be an open book. "Danny, I can't help it if half of my life is classified. It comes with the job."

"I get that," Danny says, " _now._ "

 _Now? What the...oh._   Steve's frown clears as everything finally makes sense. He thinks back again at the questions Danny had asked along with his stories, questions Steve had deflected with the expert skill of one taught the danger of giving any of yourself away, the knowledge of how it can be used against you, even by friends, leading you to close yourself off completely. He did it so automatically after all these years he hadn't even noticed.

"Danny, I...." Steve swallows, not even sure where to start. "You know you're only the fifth person I ever told about the day my mom died?"

"The fifth, huh?" Danny says with a laugh that hints of mockery, though Steve isn't sure which of them it's directed at. Maybe both. "Considering it happened 20 years ago, I suppose that's something."

Okay, so that didn't impress him. "Fine," Steve says, "ask me anything you want and I'll answer whatever I can."

"Whatever you can?"

"If they won't kick me out of the Navy and possibly court martial me, I will answer it. Happy?"

After a moment, Danny nods, and starts asking away. Steve haltingly tells stories that include his first crush (Debbie Gibson), first kiss (Kaylani something, a kiss she stole in the sandbox when they were five) and how he got a long-faded scar just below his ass (surfing, and he carefully did not ask why Danny had been looking at his naked ass close enough to notice it).

"Virginity?" Danny asks after a long drink, his voice casual, but his hand gripping his bottle more tightly than the question warranted.

Steve considers the question for a minute, taking a drink as he thinks about his answer.

"What, were you, like, drunk and you can't remember?" Danny asks.

"No..." He'd promised to answer anything that wouldn't get him kicked out of the Navy and possibly court martialed, and Danny was a few weeks over the expiration date for Steve to use that loophole to get him out of answering. So he takes a deep breath. Danny wanted to really know him. He'd get what he asked for. "Which time?" Steve says, his own grip on his Longboard the only thing keeping his hand from shaking as he brings the bottle to his lips while he watches Danny try to puzzle out that answer.

"Last I checked you could only lose your virginity once," Danny said.

"That depends," Steve says, forcing himself to hold Danny's gaze, "on whether or not you spend all your time playing for the same team."

He watches as Danny works through that, sees the comprehension dawning, going from surprise to something else Steve can't quite place. "Both," Danny says finally.

"Both?"

"Both times."

"Jessica Smith and Jason Smith, respectively," Steve says, barely moving the bottle from his lips when he speaks, taking a long drink as soon as the words are out.

Danny blinks. "Common last name," he says.

"Especially if they're brother and sister," Steve confesses. He wanted to know everything. Steve just hopes Danny isn't regretting that right about now.

"Of course they were," Danny says, shaking his head, his voice somewhere between amusement and admiration, and Steve finds it easier to swallow his next drink. "Just please tell me it wasn't at the same time. Even if it's a lie, please tell me that."

Steve laughs. "No. About a month apart, actually." He hesitates for a second before admitting, "They were twins, though."

"Of course they were," Danny repeats with more laughter. "You are...something else."

Steve finishes off his beer. "Is that good or bad?" he asks, because he's told Danny more than almost anyone knows about him, certainly more than anyone has learned from him directly, and he deserves to know how the real Steve McGarrett measures up to Danny's standards.

"Good," Danny says with a soft smile. "I think."

Steve cocks his head. "You're not sure?"

"I thought it was my turn to ask questions."

"Sorry," Steve says, opening another beer. "Ask away."

"Thank you." Danny finishes off his own beer before reaching for another. "I'd ask if you ever slept with a coworker, but that one I do know, thanks to the lovely Catherine."

Steve raises an eyebrow over his bottle as he finishes a drink. "You think she's the only one?" he asks, starting to wonder if this is going where he thinks it might be. Where he's starting to hope it might be. Because given the fact that Danny is only just trying to get over Rachel--again--and that he has a daughter, there is ample evidence to suggest it's not.

But Danny'd also spent time staring at Steve's naked ass at some point....

"She's not?" Danny asked.

"Deployments at sea are lonely, Danny," Steve says, dropping his voice lower, and no, he certainly wasn't misreading that quick swallow, or the way Danny shifted in his seat at Steve's teasing tone. Whether or not Danny was heading toward acting on it, that reaction was what he wanted to see. "First rule onboard is what happens on the ship didn't happen."

"I see." Danny's tone has changed, and so had his expression, the combination causing Steve to frown again. "So it's okay to sleep with your coworkers if nobody talks about it?"

"No, I mean...there'd be a bit of a decrease in the size of the Navy if they got rid of everyone who...indulged at some point, and nobody wants to be kicked out, so...." The look on Danny's face hadn't changed, and Steve tried again. "Most of them are straight guys...helping a brother out, so to speak," he says, thankful that the sun is completely gone and the darkness is hiding the fact that he is actually blushing.

Danny raises an eyebrow. "Most?"

"Some of us might've been a little more keen," Steve says, watching Danny closely.

He can almost see the words process one by one and tell when Danny goes back and finds the most important one. "Us?"

"Yes, us. Do you really need me to spell out the fact that I'm in that category at this point?"

"Well not _now_ , no," Danny says, looking more relaxed. "So," he continues, spinning his bottle around in his hand a little, "any coworkers you ever particularly fancied but didn't do anything about it?"

"'Fancied'?" Steve asks, laughing. "When did you become Jane Austen?"

"Fuck you."

Steve puts his beer in the sand next to the pail and stands up. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I was beginning to think you'd never ask."

He watches Danny go back over the last few exchanges, tries not to laugh as he Danny realizes what Steve means. "You...there is something seriously wrong with you."

"Does that mean you don't want to fuck me?" Steve teases, because he's sure of the answer to that one now. "Because that would be a very disappointing end to this whole conversation."

"No--I mean yes--I mean," Danny shakes his head. "I'm not even sure what the question is, but I would like very much to fuck you, so does that answer it?"

Steve resists the urge to ask if the answer would be the same if Rachel were suddenly free again, shoves the idea violently out of his head in fact."Then why are we still down here on the beach?"

Danny gets up, takes three steps until he's almost touching Steve from chest to toes. "Well for one thing you haven't even kissed me yet. _That_ is usually a precursor to fucking."

"Not always," Steve murmurs, his eyes zeroing in on Danny's lips, watching as Danny's tongue peeks out to wet them. "But I definitely think it should be here."

He reaches out as Danny moves in, pressing close as their lips meet, the first tentative touch quickly giving way to open mouths and tongues. It's beyond amazing, and Steve could almost stay here doing just this half the night.

Except there are so many other things they could be doing.

He stops himself when he realizes he's got Danny's pants undone and his hands gripping Danny's ass under the fabric. "Upstairs," he mutters against Danny's mouth. "Now."

Danny follows, one finger looped through Steve's belt loop until they reach the stairs, reminding him of dating in high school. But then they get upstairs and it's nothing like high school, at least not for him. There's none of the uncertainty or shyness that defined high school relationships. He and Danny are in sync, just like out in the field, when they can read each other's moves without any effort and compensate accordingly. It's perfect, right up until Steve takes a step back toward the bed, not even realizing his pants are down around his ankles, and topples onto the floor, pulling Danny down on top of him.

Okay, so maybe a _little_ like high school.

"Funny," Danny says, his hair flopping over his face, tickling Steve's nose, "I hadn't pegged you as a bottom."

"Oh you have no idea," Steve says, grabbing Danny's ass and pressing up against him, frustrated by the fabric of Danny's pants against his naked dick instead of Danny's skin. "These need to come off," Steve mutters, tugging at Danny's waistband while his lips explore Danny's neck.

"You're gonna have to let me up for that to happen."

Steve growls at that idea, but then he surges up against Danny again and decides it's worth letting him go for a few seconds to have Danny naked against him. So he lets go, pushing Danny to his feet and getting up himself, pulling his pants and shoes the rest of the way off and whipping his shirt over his head in the time it takes Danny to get pants down, but not even off.

"Too. Slow." Steve reaches for Danny's shirt, intending to just pull it open, but Danny grabs Steve's wrist.

"I like this shirt. You ruin it and I'm going home."

Blinking, Steve considers the chance Danny would actually go home when he's that hard--and there's a thought he needs to avoid long enough to get Danny undressed. He sighs and unbuttons Danny's sleeves and about three buttons down the front before pulling it up over Danny's head and throwing it out of the way.

He pushes Danny, who falls back onto the bed, allowing Steve to yank off Danny's shoes, socks and pants and toss them behind him as well, and then Danny is spread out on the bed completely naked, looking up at Steve like he's a particularly tasty malasada.

"The things I want to do to you," Steve says, eyes going all over Danny's body, trying to decide where to start.

"What are you doing, planning a strategic attack? Get your ass down here and show me."

Steve feels a grin hit his face full force as he all but falls on top of Danny, one leg between Danny's thighs. Danny's dick is hot and hard against Steve's thigh, his own thoroughly enjoying the friction between his stomach and Danny's thigh, and he doesn't think he'll last long like this.

But this isn't how he wants it. With some effort, Steve pushes up to his knees, silencing Danny's protest with a kiss before he leans over and opens the nightstand.

"What are you--oh," Danny says, as Steve sits back up, spread across Danny's thighs, holding up lube and a condom like a trophy. Any doubt he might have had that Danny was ready to go this far was settled  by the way Danny's hands grips at Steve's thighs. "I didn't realize you took me quite so literally," Danny says, though, and Steve pauses.

"We don't have to--I mean, we can--"

"I wasn't complaining," Danny says. "Just making sure you were...y'know...sure."

Steve swallows against the surge of affection that runs through him. He leans down, giving Danny a long kiss before biting his way down Danny's cheek to nip at his ear. "I've been imagining what it would be like to have your dick in me for months," Steve says, low and quiet against Danny's ear. "Trust me. I'm sure."

"Okay then," Danny says, his voice hoarse, and Steve pushes against him, enjoying the friction while he gets one last kiss, and then he makes himself sit up.

"Here," Steve says, dropping the condom on Danny's stomach. "Make yourself useful."

"Make myself useful?' Danny says, sounding incredulous, but Steve notices he wastes no time in ripping open the foil packet. "There's nothing else about me you find useful at this moment?" Danny asks.

Steve shrugs, grinning down at him. "Maybe one or two other parts," he says, hand gripping Danny's dick, pumping it a few times just to see the way Danny's eyes glaze over a little. Before Danny can position the condom, Steve drops the lube on the bed beside them and snatches the condom out of Danny's hand. "Let me," he says, rolling it down Danny's dick, stroking it a few more times after it's on.

"You keep that up and you'll have to wait a while," Danny says, and his voice hits Steve right in the balls. He already sounds completely fucked, and Steve lets go of Danny's dick to grab his own just to keep himself from coming.

After he's given himself a moment, Steve grabs the lube and opens it. He's about to pour it on his hand when Danny takes it away. "Let me," he says, and Steve can't argue with the idea of Danny's fingers in his ass any more than he can argue with that slightly dazed, definitely needy look on Danny's face.

He raises up onto his knees, his thighs shaking ever so slightly when Danny runs a hand from Steve's ass down the length of one thigh to his knee before he pours lube onto his fingers and caps the tube, putting it aside before reaching between Steve's legs.

Danny slides his fingers along behind Steve's balls until he finds his target, slipping one finger inside slowly, and it's been a while, Steve has to admit, but he knows with absolute certainty that it's never felt this good before.

He pushes down on Danny's hand, impatient, watching Danny's face as he slips two fingers inside. His eyes are open and trained on his fingers sliding in and out of Steve's ass. By the time he has three fingers in, Steve is riding Danny's fingers, pulling off only when he worries he'll come before he has a chance to get Danny's dick inside him.

He wants everything he can get, in case Rachel changes her mind again.

"Come on," Steve says urgently, batting Danny's hand out of the way and reaching for his dick, raising himself up over it before lowering slowly down, holding it steady with his hand. He can't help but groan at the first press of the tip inside his body; definitely never been this good before. Ever.

But then no one he's been with like this has known him as well as Danny. And he certainly never had the kinds of feelings for anyone else that he's starting to realize he might have for Danny. That  figures--he's always excelled at most wanting things he can't keep.

He has him here and now, though, and he is definitely enjoying it, feeling Danny slowly filling him until he's completely inside, and Steve feels stretched so tight around him, like a perfectly tailored glove, and chokes back a half-joke that clearly they were made to be together.

"God, babe..." Danny says, and his voice has Steve twitching just to feel the hitch the movement puts in Danny's breath. He's going to have a really hard time not jumping Danny from now on when he calls him that in public. "You're fucking amazing."

"We should," Steve says, managing to rise up to his knees until Danny is almost completely out of him again, "form a mutual admiration society then, because you're--fuck--you're--"

Danny pushes up to meet him, and Steve loses track of what he was saying, loses track of anything but Danny, thrusting under him, pushing up into him, his hands gripping Steve's thighs, and those utterly destroying sounds coming from Danny's throat that make Steve wish he could hit the recorder on his phone to play them back later.

Maybe Danny will give him a repeat performance.

He's certainly looking like he might be okay with that, his eyes slitted, bright blue rims around dark pupils barely showing through. He's intently focused on Steve's face, reminding him of Danny on a case, when he's cataloging everything on a scene, leaving Steve to wonder how difficult their next case is going to be if everything is going to remind him of sex.

Steve pushes down harder, crying out Danny's name, babbling God only knows what else as Danny hits him just right, and he's not even sure which one of them is driving harder at this point, only that it's too good, and he wants it never to end.

He's so close, though, and he wants to come with Danny still inside him, and have time to watch Danny, so he puts his hand on his dick, managing a couple of strokes before he feels one of Danny's hands let go its death grip on Steve's thigh to join Steve's hand on his dick.

Danny's hand on his dick, the sight and feel of it, is enough to send Steve over the edge, and he bears down hard on Danny, coming with Danny as deep inside him as he can get, and Danny's hand still working him through his orgasm.

When he's at least coherent enough to think again, he realizes Danny is gripping his thighs once more, pushing up against Steve's weight like he can get even deeper, and Steve starts to move again, loving the way Danny is practically clawing into his thighs. Steve's going to have bruises and he doesn't care.

He can feel Danny's thrusts getting more erratic, the hitches in his breath giving way to "Steve..." and "please..." and Steve desperately wishes he could get it up again right then.

But he can't, so he leans down, changing the angle, wrangling a gasp out of Danny. "Come on, Danny," Steve says, his lips against Danny's ear. "Come for me. I wanna see."

He kisses Danny, feels his whole body tighten and sits up, pushing down hard on Danny's dick as Danny thrusts up, his whole body going tight, muscles and veins standing out like he's sculpted.

Steve has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

A long, though not nearly long enough, moment later, Danny starts gulping in breaths and relaxes. Steve runs his hands up and down Danny's sides as he finally opens his eyes and gives Steve the most gorgeous, sleepy smile ever. "That was..."

"Yeah," Steve says, not minding the hoarseness in his own voice after hearing it in Danny's. "That was."

Danny tries to lift a hand off Steve's thigh, but it drops back down. "I think you broke me," he says, eyes closing, but still wearing that smile that does incredibly, wonderfully bad things to Steve's heart.

He thinks maybe Danny got it wrong--he's the one who's broken Steve.

Steve pushes up to his knees one last time, letting Danny slip out of him, and flops onto the bed on his side, his hand resting on Danny's stomach. "Guess you'll just have to stay here forever if you're broken," Steve says, hoping his voice didn't show just how okay he'd be with that.

"Mmm," Danny says, managing to lift a hand long enough to let it drop on top of Steve's on Danny's stomach. "'M not going anywhere for a while at least, for sure."

"Careful," Steve says, "stick around long enough and I might have to break you again."

Danny manages a sort of laugh, eyes remaining closed. "I'd be okay with that," he mutters. "Just let me take a nap first."

He turns onto his side, pulling Steve's hand, and therefore Steve, until Steve is flush against his back, and is asleep in what feels like seconds. Steve resists the lure of sleep in favor of memorizing the feel and smell of being here, sweaty and fucked out, wrapped around Danny.

Sleep he can have anytime. This he may not get again.

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art: Bottom of the Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/564252) by [uxseven (ignemferam)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignemferam/pseuds/uxseven)




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